SAGE: AN ADAM STONE MYSTERY (THE ADAM STONE MYSTERIES Book 1)

by D. L. EVANS

  “I can’t Adam. Alison and I are in the middle of arrangements with Uncle Rick’s funeral on Friday. We won’t be at the big bank Tower extravaganza either. Hundreds of family members are still arriving. The logistics are a nightmare, hotels, reservations and the lawyers... the will...”

  “It’s alright. I’m going to do some checking and I want to go over this with Mack. If I’m right, we’ll have to move carefully without scaring him off. Can you continue like nothing’s happened?”

  “This is crazy, Adam. Of course, I’ll go along with it. We’re too busy to be normal anyway. What about your car? Do you think it was him?” Annie asked. “Maybe he knows you’re getting close and that was a warning? Adam, he could kill you next time you come around.”

  “I don’t know. He could have ordered it done. Mack is checking out all the drivers. There weren’t many trucks that could have hauled that size construction bin in the area so it’ shouldn’t be too hard to trace. Still, he’s not made any mistakes and I expect this one will be a dead end too. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Call when you need a break, OK?”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  ADAM STONE:

  Later that morning I called the Station and left a message for Mack to drop by and proceeded to condense my notes. I was tempted to call Lauren and tell her about the death of my cherished Healy but I didn’t want to get into it again. She was up to her ears anyway. Bad news can always wait. When I was satisfied with the notes I went over to the chalkboard. One side was filled with my extrapolations (and possible fantasies) about how the different murders could have occurred and since I didn’t want to erase them, I reversed the board and put down my thoughts about ‘the mysterious psychic car crash victim, now referred to as Mr. ‘V’. He became a category unto himself. Within an hour the buzzer interrupted and I let Mack into the building. My thoughts about Mr. ‘V’ were still unsettled and I wanted time to think about things before I was ready to discuss them with Mack. I turned the board back around to it’s original position when he knocked on the door. Mack walked in balancing a pizza box. He informed me that there wasn’t any news about Vlad Roman, in case I was interested. He was however, very interested to see how I had translated his notes into different theories on my chalkboard and how it compared to his team’s work at the station. There was more to it than that though. He had something to tell me and it was killing him to keep it contained. The walk gave him away. He always went up on the balls of his feet when something was cooking in his pea brain.

  “So, Detective Mackenzie or McGreen...” I challenged, “Are you going to tell me your real name?”

  “Fuck off...” he answered conversationally, “Mack, will do. It’s legal.” I smiled and shrugged an agreement. There was obviously more to it but it would hold for another time. He looked at my printed speculations carefully, without comment, and then got a beer from the fridge. I had to be patient. He then handed me a slice of the pizza. Finally he started. “I was named after me dear ol’ father. When he died, God damn his eyes, may he rot in hell, and Mother sold the house, we sort of felt that we had escaped, you know, escaped our old life and came here. Mother legally took back her maiden name, Mackenzie, and I told the lawyer to change mine to Mack Mackenzie. That’s it. Full stop.”

  I nodded. It was a closed subject. Anything dealing with his late father was better left alone.

  “Well, now that’s out of the way and buried forever,” Mack looked at me letting his expression underline the point, ”let me tell you about my morning. No news on the driver who dropped the bin on your car yet but we’ll find out soon enough who was supposed to pick it up and who paid for a side trip to the lakefront warehouse parking lot. It’s a closed business that does not invite competition.” I remembered. It was the polite way of saying that it was run by the Mafia. “The closest demolition site is two streets away but there’s a lot of construction going on along the whole Lakeshore. Even if we find the truck and driver I don’t expect we can prove anything. I might have more success with my ‘kids’ on the street. We’ll see. Does Lauren know?”

  “Not yet. I figured she has her plate full and this would only add more worry. There’s no rush. I will replace the car somehow. What else have you been up to?”

  “Except for a few phone calls and a couple of quick visits by car this morning, while you were no doubt still havin’ yer beauty sleep, I’d say you’re pretty well up to date with our investigation.” He glanced at the stack of notes and folders strewn over every space in the living room. “You don’t have copies of the files on the three women but they’re just three hundred and twenty-six boring and useless interviews with the usual. (Relatives, neighbours, and co-workers.) You have the important stuff, telephone records, profiles and in the case of the Como woman, a partial autopsy. In my opinion, you now have everything relevant.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. I mean, other than your former name...”

  He smiled his Cheshire cat smile looking intently at the chalkboard, enjoying the suspense. “Can’t give it up can you? Well, too bad yer not a bleedin’ mind reader cause that’s the only way you’ll ever find out.”

  I smiled tolerantly.

  He continued, pointing at the chalkboard “I see you’ve come to pretty much the same conclusions that we have, that there are three perps and three crimes.”

  “I have exactly two murderers there” I said. ”Where do you come up with more?”

  Mack said “Ah, not all perps are killers my good man. Three, as follows: One Mister ‘X’, killed the three women, (two still missing) and then Morgan. Our second killer, Mister ‘Y’, according to you, butchered Hennessy and old Mr. Stanford, and the third crime, although not up there on your board, is fraud, staring Mr. Smythe with good ol’ Reese taking a bow.” He sat comfortably on the couch and swirled his beer. “And,…you’re leaving Annie and three murdered boyfriends off the board. Any reason?”

  I ignored his question. “Where did you put her name on your board?”

  “At the very top with three lines leading to the three boyfriend crimes thought to be accidents because except for Roger Smythe, she knew everyone. And she knew Smythe indirectly through Lauren.”

  “That’s a stretch.” I said. The food lost its taste in my mouth. “She couldn’t possibly be involved in whatever he’s up to with his friends.”

  “No,” Mack agreed. “But Roger could look on her ‘talent’ as a threat. What if he checked her out with his buddies at the FBI? He could easily have found out about her ‘consultant’ work and maybe panicked that she might sniff him out and whatever fraud he’s got going. I’ve the impression that she’s becoming a good friend of Lauren’s. I need to ask some questions of both women.”

  “Do you believe Annie is capable of killing?” I asked. It was a critical question and he knew it. He thought for a moment. Once again I found myself holding my breath.

  Mack faced me with a serious expression. “I think she’s capable of stopping the world from turning if she was so inclined, but no, to answer your question, she’s not who we’re looking for.”

  I thought that was a rather conclusive statement, unusual for Mack, as he always keeps the options open.

  “As for your summaries,” Mack said, ”I would put the rest of the players on your board, if only to be eliminated as we progress.” He took the chalk and wrote Winston Lucas, Alison Stanford, Vladimir Roman plus two assistants and finally Lauren Stone.

  I didn’t comment. They were not under any of the three headings at least. Where was he going with this? “Listen, you know something I don’t. Are you going to spit it out or play me like a goddamn salmon?” I asked.

  “Not much on patience are we?” Mack replied sarcastically. He didn’t seem to like my expression so he continued quickly. “This morning, I think I may have found out the identity of one of our murderers, and he’s not on either of our boards.”

  “For Chris sake who?” I demanded.

  Mack said “Remember when Annie told
us that a month after her birthday, she pulled a man from a wrecked car?”

  “Yes. Why?” I asked.

  “I checked it out.” he said flatly, like that explained everything.

  “Checked what out?” I insisted.

  “The accident.” Mack said. “Remember she said she went into a dream state and saw an accident that hadn’t happened yet?”

  “Why did you pick up on that particular comment? How did you know where or when to look?” I asked, amazed that his mind had zeroed in onto the same thought that I did but then, I was amazed that he believed her at all. The ‘old’ Mack Mackenzie wouldn’t have given her the benefit of the doubt. But, (I mentally smirked) Mason Green would!

  “Annie” he continued, “said it happened ten years ago about a month after her birthday, near the Uxbridge. Well, her birthday is August ninth, so I drove to Uxbridge and asked the local constabulary to check their records for the second week in September of Ninety-nine. It sounded like a pretty serious situation, involving at least three cars, so there had to be something in the computer on it, right? Reports had to be filed, people died, right?”

  ”Right.” I said. This obviously led somewhere. “So?”

  “OK, let me start at the beginning,” Mack said taking a deep breath. He was in his element. “There are several cops working out of that station but only one was there at the time, eight years ago, Josh Vinnels. He’s the chief now. When they checked the computer, the information was missing...” Before I could speak, he said, “That’s right, missing. Fortunately, he remembered the incident and filled me in as much as he could. They were quite embarrassed about the missing information.”

  “Who was the guy?”

  “We still don’t know but I shook up a hornets nest with my questions. Vinnels directed me to the hospital where the only survivor was taken. Five others died. Guess what I found?”

  “No record there either,” I suggested “The reports weren’t missing, they had been erased by a pro who didn’t want any loose ends?.”

  “Bingo. Not just a pretty face, are you?” Mack said.

  “How did the accident happen?” I asked.

  “Vinnels remembered a lot. It was his first serious smash-up and you know how those visions stick in your brain. The five men that died were related to each other. Bad, mean locals that were well hated in Uxbridge. One of the trucks tried to pass on a curve and whacked into the one ahead. Another truck hit the two of them and in the mud and rain all three were knocked off the road. One started to burn right away and eventually all three went up but the stranger in the third truck had been pulled clear by Annie who arrived at the scene moments after it happened. Vinnels remembers Annie. Gorgeous young woman in a red Porsche who had a premonition about the accident. Asked if she was married yet. Described her to a tee.”

  “Ya, ya. Quit pushing my buttons. You’ve come up with a theory. What is it?” I asked.

  “I think our stranger in the rented pick-up, you’ve called him Mr. ‘V’, on your board, has been watching Annie, off and on, ever since.” This was it. Mack’s eyes were positively dancing. “I think he killed Hennessy just for threatening her. He’s appointed himself some sort of guardian, probably because he owes her his life. My guess is that he’s a professional hit man and the accident happened on his way to or from, a paid hit. I’ll have to check out what happened in the area before the end of September, eight years ago when I get back. I think he also ‘hit’ her boyfriends for some twisted reason, after she was through with them and couldn’t be connected with their deaths.

  I said “Jesus, Mack. I think it’s weird that you and I don’t even have to work together to come to the same conclusions. I’ve been talking to Annie about that accident too, this morning. Something didn’t sit right.” I went over to the board and flipped it over.

  “How do you think Annie tuned into him?” I asked.

  “Just a minute... “ Mack read what I’d written on the reverse side of the board. “Shit. Y’know what? We’re fucking amazing! The two us… I mean it. You just haven’t taken things far enough, mate. You just think he’s watching her, out of gratitude? I don’t. How did she find him? Yer going to love this, I worked it out in the car on the drive back, there’s only one way it could happen. Annie was summoned to the accident.” He waited for my reaction.

  I didn’t have one. Something had seized up. Annie was being stalked or watched, by a professional killer? I had a quick flash of the pictures of Hennessy hanging upside down that would never be released to the press.

  Seeing that I was speechless, Mack continued. “How was she directed, you might ask, being a writer?” (Dramatic pause) He turned from the board and pointed a finger at me. “Annie was driving along, minding her own business when her ‘spider sense’ picked up on an impending accident. She went into a dream state. ‘Mr. V’ called her. Well, maybe not Annie specifically, since they’ve never met.” He glanced at me but I was totally lost. “The guy was dying right?” Mack said. “Blood, guts, dead bodies, fire all around him. I mean, it was a miracle that he survived the initial crash. What did he have to loose? Are you with me?” He asked.

  I must have been staring without expression, trying to absorb this incredible interpretation, wondering if there was something wrong with my hearing, but Mack was in another zone. I don’t think I even needed to be there. He was talking out loud, to himself. “Maybe they’re related? No, she would’ve sensed that.” He seemed to consider that thought for a moment before continuing, “well... whatever.” At some point Mack remembered that I was hanging on his every word and turned to face me. “He must have felt that he was dying Adam, and maybe unconsciously, sent out a psychic SOS. He has this same, uh... ability that Annie has and she came and saved him. For some reason he didn’t want anyone to know anything about him, where he was going or where he had been. Our ungrateful weirdo didn’t stay in the hospital, or even seek out Annie to thank her for saving his life or anything and she just dismissed the incident as something a little more unusual in a life full of unusual events... “

  I said “A psychic SOS? That’s a new one. I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation! Listen to us.” I started pacing. “Maybe he’s not a killer at all... just didn’t want anyone to know what he was capable of. You know, a recluse, needing privacy, like Annie. Did you get a description?”

  “He went back, Adam. That’s what changes everything... our Mr. V. went back. Sometime later, he must have returned to erase the records and had to get rid of the notes and files in a police station and a hospital. What does that tell us? I told you the guy that did Hennessy was fucking invisible? Well, computer files can be hacked into and fiddled but those cops still can’t figure how hand written notes from their files disappeared. Vinnels remembered that the guy was in his late thirties, average build, average height, short blondish hair, brush cut, dressed in jeans and denim jacket. Nothing special. We need to talk to Annie again and get her to see what else she can remember.” He finally stopped and took a deep breath.

  “You seriously think this... character killed Hennessy?” I asked.

  “That’s right.” Mack said. “He’s a psycho psychic and if he’s a watcher, he knows all about us. The thing is, me boyo, you’re the love interest and we know what happens to them.... Maybe he’s warned you by crushing your car.” Mack pointed a finger at me for emphasis.

  “The boyfriends died after they broke up,” I said. "If he knows what's going on with her, I mean everything, then he knows we're lovers."

  “I knew it! Ask me how?” The smug little shit was smirking.

  “Shut up,” I said and he laughed. I said “You’re a bloody detective. This guy’s been a step ahead of us all along. We’ve got to figure out who and where he is. Annie feels the danger and has for a while, but years? Could he be responsible for the other deaths... Morgan?”

  “Maybe if he’s gone right off the edge but I don’t think so.” He thought for a moment and continued. “No, Now that I thin
k about it, I agree with your breakdown on the board. Someone killed Morgan and maybe those three women and someone else snuffed Uncle Richard. Three killers. Three... God.” He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back into the chair. I noticed dark circles under his eyes. “But I’ll tell you what I do think Adam, critical mass is happening; I can feel it. I wish I knew how to prepare but whatever’s going to happen, we’re just going to have to ride it out and pray we’ve not been given a death sentence by the invisible man, Mr. ‘V’”.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  ADAM STONE:

  Friday morning, I woke at six. This was the big day for Lauren. The whole city was centred on the festivities around the grand opening of the Bank Plaza. After breakfast I wandered over to see the place before the crowds arrived. The central courtyard under a massive dome, filled the space between the four bank monoliths and was now described as one of the Seven Modern Wonders Of The World. Interlocking stones formed a flowing mosaic path that featured the flowers of each province worked into the pattern and led the eye on a subtle route through ornate planters and benches. It was going to take an army of gardeners to tend the magnificent trees and plants. There were several activities planned to keep the onlookers amused throughout the morning until the live ‘on camera’ telecast was due to begin at noon. As the cameramen (two men, three women) practised their moves panning the gathering crowds I found myself looking for Lauren. She was probably in her element somewhere behind the scenes, telling everyone what to do, directing all the minions that would be paying public homage to this incredible architectural addition to our fair city. Or did I sense some faint disillusionment with her success in our last conversation? Could be just a reaction from the troubled waters with Roger-Dodger, added to the stress of the big day I suppose. I guess you really do have to be careful what you wish for.